


The Golem & The Dybbuk

by articulatez



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV), Russian Doll (TV 2019)
Genre: Arson, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/M, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 07:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20093221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez
Summary: Rebecca Bunch writes stories. No one ever gets to read them. Tonight, she finds herself in real live story and is determined to re-write the narrative so the girl gets the guy and sails off into the sunset. Fate may have other plans.





	The Golem & The Dybbuk

The music throbbed, downstairs the party was all abuzz, and Rebecca Bunch was sitting on the toilet and glaring at her phone, willing his name to light up the screen. Paula had told her again and again not to panic. That was like asking Charles Bukowski not to write utterly depressing poetry. Rebecca resisted a sudden itch to google poetry about death and love. If Josh didn't show up, she'd die. Literally, she'd drop dead of disappointment.

It wasn't that she loved him. She wanted him to have a good birthday was all. It wasn't every year that the most wonderful and beautiful Philippino VHR... CD... DVD... computer...? salesman turned twenty-six! He deserved the best birthday, and she was the exact right person to do so. With Paula's help she'd rounded up all his West Covina friends, including White Josh, Hector, Beans, some guy named Jason who he played Call of Duty with, of course Valencia, and Greg. Rebecca had sworn them all to secrecy. Valencia was the one stand-out to give her pause; their tongue-wrestling at Spider's hadn't exactly endeared her to Rebecca. And Greg... She'd have to avoid him and his sarcasm.

Nothing was ever as easy as she hoped, even when she did exactly as the heroines in romantic novels would. Run to the airport, be his good and platonic friend, try dating his best friend until you realize you're a broken disaster and a huge bitch. Rebecca switched the WiFi off and on, convinced his text wasn't coming through. If she sat here much longer she'd end up with enormous hemorrhoids on top of her escalating anxiety.

Then, sure enough, her phone buzzed. It was him! She suppressed a squeal and a grin.

Josh Chan: I'm on my way, can't wait to see you. :)

Washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror, taking a breath for herself before what could be the greatest night of her life. This would be Josh Chan's best birthday ever. Everyone was happy, there was a stack of pizzas, a keg, and Paula had even brought Twister. The night was young at only six o'clock and rife with exciting possibilities.

So why was she one wrong word away from crying? She groaned and sank to her elbows on the sink, hitting her head on the faucet. “You're supposed to be happy, you're throwing your friend a surprise party, your house is full of friends. This is what happy feels like,” she chanted, her breaths heavy and quick. “This is what happy feels like.”

She raised her head and considered the medicine cabinet, opened it with one brusque motion, and pulled out her emergency Xanax. Break glass in case of emergency. She popped out one pill, blue and bifurcated, and took it with a mouthful of tap water from the sink. Somehow the act of taking a pill calmed her enough to face the party.

“Cookie!” Paula cheered, lifting a beer. She was definitely a few drinks in if her ruddy cheeks were any indication. Rebecca plastered on a smile as Paula drew close to hiss, “How's Operation: Birthday Boy?”

“He's heading over, Paula,” Rebecca said, lifted a half-finished drink off one of the steps, and clinked it with her confidante's. She did not think of who she was sharing the drink with as she finished it off. Besides, two out of three people had herpes. Whatever it was must have been strong because she was actually dancing. This was Pride & Prejudice, only she wouldn't have to change Mr. Darcy because he was already perfect, he had welcomed her to Pemberley – no, West Covina! – with a gentle smile and a body sculpted by Crossfit.

She slowed and retreated to the sliding glass door to watch the party. Valencia, charming them all. Valencia had never burned her neck while curling her long hair, hadn't alienated both her parents and burned all her past bridges, definitely hadn't resorted to mind-dulling pharmaceuticals to get through a party. Valencia could have planned a better party, something sophisticated. This was kids' stuff. Pizza and beer? A Costco sheet cake? Twister?? What was she thinking? Josh would see this and laugh. Josh would see this and leave.

The doorbell rang. She squealed shrill, “This is not a drill, people! Josh is here! Places, places!” No one ducked down like she had begged them to rehearse, so when she turned off the lights their outlines could be seen, silver shadows in a black room lifting red cups of beer and continuing to talk, albeit more quietly.

Rebecca breathed. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. That's what her meditation app had told her the one time she had used it before deciding it didn't work and wasn't worth the effort. She opened the door to see him, Josh, his broad smile fading into bewilderment as he took it all in, everything that she'd put together for him.

“Surprise!” she cheered, hugged him, and flipped on all the lights. The party-goers groaned. She ignored them. “Sorry, sorry, they were supposed to hide and then jump out and yell 'Surprise!' with me.” Rebecca stepped aside to let him in. It was obvious: he hated it. He didn't think it was funny at all, no, not even in an ironic way. He was disappointed.

“You... threw me a surprise party?” he said, looking back at her after giving the room a once-over.

“Josh, I-- I know it didn't work out. I'm...” She pushed her hair back and found it hard to look at him, Echo beholding the unattainable Narcissus. “I'm so sorry.”

“Becks, are you kidding? This is awesome! It looks like everyone who matters is here, and... I know you and me like things like surprise parties, but not everyone's as cool.”

He gave her a playful punch on the shoulder while she mentally corrected his grammar. Even with the imperfections of his verbal compositions, her heart was trilling with love's umistakable refrain. She fairly floated back to Paula. “So was this worth getting out of date night with Scott?” she asked her.

“Are you kidding? I'd rather have a root canal than have a date with my husband,” Paula grinned. “Speaking of cavities, when are you and Josh going to be feeding each other that wonderful Costco cake?”

“Paula, that's terrible! Valencia is right there!” she said. “Look how happy they are.”

They were certainly animated, speaking in hushed and vigorous tones with an excessive amount of gesticulation on Valencia's part.

“I don't think that's happiness you're seeing, Cookie,” Paula said, barely restraining her glee. Rebecca, watching them fight, thought of another fight, another party, another Rebecca. She became smaller and smaller with each rise in volume, and she wasn't there. She was twelve. She was a loser who would grow up to be a dilettante-- also known as a cultured loser.

“You came here because Rebecca texted you,” Valencia burst out. “What, you thought you'd find her alone here at night and you'd share a nice birthday fuck before coming home to me?!”

“Rebecca is my _friend_,” Josh said. It was somehow worse that he wasn't yelling too, all the anger and hurt escaping through a tightly clenched jaw. “She did all this for me. She included you! Why would she do that if she did want to hook up with me? Huh?”

“If you cared about including me as much as you say she does, you would have called me before coming over here.” Her voice was thick with tears. The party had ground to an awkward stop, and everyone was witness to the reenactment of Rebecca's worst fear. And Rebecca was paralyzed, unable to stop it. “I'm going home. You... Enjoy the party.” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The drinking and chattering resumed after a few brief awkward moments. Paula nudged Rebecca and nodded her head towards Josh as he headed upstairs. To get away. She understood, more than he could ever know.

“Yeah, that was something! Keep drinking and being beautiful! We will be back in a jiffy for some cake!” Rebecca said, waving her arms with each exclamation. She saw Greg roll his eyes and pick up a bottle of whiskey. Then she hurried upstairs, the noises softer from the second floor like the festivities had been wrapped in cotton. She found Josh in her bedroom, sitting on the bed where she didn't sleep much.

“You have... a lot of books,” he said, indicating the stacks of books on her endtable, dresser, the floor by her bed. “Do you still write?”

“What? No,” she laughed. “My writing was terrible, you said so yourself. It was, like... a bodice ripper that would have Fabio on the cover. Not even Fabio when he was younger. I'm talking old, craggy Fabio with saggy man-balls.” She cupped imaginary testicles between her legs and Josh cracked a smile.

“Yeah, but people change. That was... what, ten years ago? We were different people, Becks. Back then I wanted to be a dancer, and Valencia wanted to be a weather girl.” His smile retreated to a grimace. She sat not too close to him on the bed.

“Were you and Valencia different people?” she gently pressed.

He shook his head. “Sometimes things don't... grow. Sometimes they... what's the word for when it's sort of rotting while it stays the same? Not compost--”

“Stagnate?” she guessed.

“Yeah, we stagnated. I'm so... lost. How could she leave me like that, on my birthday?”

She knew. Knew exactly what was in his heart. Rebecca wrapped him up in a hug and breathed him in, stroking his back. “Josh... Come back to the party,” she sighed, but when she pulled back their eyes met. She could give him everything he needed, and right now he needed love. She knew what he was feeling.

Which was why it came as such a sickening shock when he pulled away from the kiss she tried to give him with a disgusted start. “She was right, wasn't she,” he said.

“What? Who? No. What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Valencia. You planned this to... to make us fight and then, want, you'd give me sexual healing?” He stood abruptly. “I... no, you wouldn't do that. People aren't cartoon coyotes.”

“Huh?” she said, tilting her head. “Josh, I- I'm confused, we were just talking. Sit down, let's figure this out.”

“Rebecca, listen to me because I am only going to say this once: I will never sleep with you,” he said firmly. And then he left. His footsteps hurried downstairs, the front door opened and closed and oh god this was hell on earth. She'd made a fool out of three people tonight, but at least two of those fools could go home and be together and be in love. They'd hopefully forget about her and the mess she'd made of the evening.

Her vision swam. When she came downstairs, she came down yelling. “Everyone get out before I call the police,” she said. “I faced my fears, Paula, and look where it got me! Now you all need to get out of my sight!”

It took her pulling out her cell phone and holding it aloft with 9-1-1 poised to dial for everyone to realize she meant it and skedaddle. Those awful minutes of hate passed in flashes between what felt like a blackout drunkenness. But she'd only had one drink. She heard her scream at Paula, things that she didn't mean, Paula leaving.

Rebecca huddled in her bedroom with a handle of vodka and every notebook she'd had since that summer camp. Her writing was stupid. She was stupid. Josh didn't love her. She hated Josh. Hated everyone. Had to get the memories out of the pages, out of her head. She doused the notebooks on her bed, struck the match, and burned her past. The fire blazed while she blacked out, and lying on the floor between barely awake and unconsciousness she thought: it sure is smokey in here, someone call a bear mascot.  


* * *

The music throbbed, downstairs the party was all abuzz, and Rebecca Bunch was sitting on the toilet and glaring at her phone. Why? She looked around, disoriented like she had woken up from a nap. To the best of her considerable knowledge she hadn't fallen asleep on the toilet again.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and the screen lit up.

Josh Chan: I'm on my way, can't wait to see you. :)

She grinned and pumped her fist. This party was going to be amazing.


End file.
